The Most Unlikely of Friendships
by The Fruit and the Loopy
Summary: It was at the unholy hour of one in the morning when the most daring of friendships was born.


Samantha Manson consistently showed herself as an apathetic, 'creepy' Goth girl with a fixation on being 'individual' and eco-girl extraordinaire. The girl who wore fangs to a beauty pageant? That's her. The girl who found the A-list 'shallow' and shunned anything popular? That's her. The girl who wouldn't be seen within a mile of anything pink? That's her. The girl who tried to change the cafeteria menu to all-vegetarian? That's her.

The girl who went out ghost hunting at eleven o' clock in the dead of night with her half-ghost best friend, saving the town from malignant specters and spooks, toting a super-thermos and a wrist ray?

That's also her.

So naturally, she was utterly and completely surprised when Paulina Sanchez, anathema to everything she stood for (except supporting Danny Phantom, aforementioned resident superhero) rang the doorbell of her mansion at the unholy hour of one in the morning and promptly collapsed into her arms, sobbing in a most un-ladylike fashion.

And thus, perhaps, marked the beginning of the most unlikely friendship that had ever dared to walk the halls of Casper High.

Now, despite being an 'apathetic Goth,' Samantha Manson also consistently broke all labels as she went. Therefore, she was not really all that apathetic. She was, besides the initial, "What the hell?" of her arch-nemesis in Casper High sobbing in her arms, concerned.

However, one must not forget that they are enemies, and Paulina Sanchez was the classic Queen Bee bitch who committed nothing short of psychological warfare on her fellow females (and sometimes, males.)

"Paulina?"

"S-Sam, I'm s-sorry, but I can't take it any-_anymore!_"

Clad in nothing but black eco-fiber flannel pajamas (complete with purple bats), Sam brought the girl upstairs to her room, the only safe haven she could think of at the moment. She wondered why Paulina didn't bother to make a snippy or awed comment at her mansion, because she was pretty sure Paulina Sanchez didn't know her parents were millionaires.

In the safe sanctuary of Goth blacks and purples, Paulina (in nothing but white shorts and shirt and a hot pink robe) finally stopped crying like there was no tomorrow. Her teal blue eyes were bloodshot; her lashes clumped; face bare, without any makeup; her hair disheveled and mussed-up. She hadn't even wore shoes; her dainty feet were bare and dirty. Nothing but candlelight illuminated the room.

"S-sorry." She hiccupped once. "I'm a mess, huh?"

Sam, unwilling to give up her 'apathetic Goth' persona quite yet, crossed her arms and asked, "Please, explain why you came sobbing to my house at . . ." she glanced at her clock, "one twenty three in the morning." It came out less acidly than she'd liked.

Paulina bit her lip.

"Well, first of all, sorry for being the queen of bitches to you." Sam's head snapped up and her violet eyes widened in surprise. _What?_

She never would've expected in a million years that Paulina Sanchez would _bother_ to so much as talk to her civilly, much less _apologize_ for years' worth of bullying her.

"Second," she plowed on, "I came to you because . . ." She pursed her lips delicately.

"I don't want to be this way anymore."

Sam's eyebrows shot straight up. "What? You're beautiful, popular, queen bee of all of Casper High, you've got your pick of any boy in the school, you're rich-"A delicate caramel-coloured hand stopped her.

"My parents. They've always expected me to be the perfect child." Even in the dim light, Sam could see her eyes glisten. "Papa and Mama expect nothing more of me but to be a human _Barbie doll_. It's all about _image._" she spat. "And I . . . didn't see another way. They're _Papa and Mama,_ for God's sake! My only friends would ditch my otherwise. Trapped, if you get my drift."

"But I hate living like this!" Her cultured Latino accent grew thicker. "I can't stand picking on another 'low-class' and if I do one more time, I think I will _explode!_ My friends –" She scoffed. "Half of them just want popularity or to get in my parent's good books. It's like a game and I'm nothing but a damned pawn!" She looked straight at Sam. Suddenly, the image of the perfect, infallible, Latina queen bee shattered into a million pieces. Instead, a vulnerable, scared and tired girl, disheveled and makeup-less, took her place.

"You, you have friends. Real friends. They're more like family than you're parents, right?" Shocked at such an astute observation, Sam numbly nodded. "I've seen you, Foley and Fenton. You've got some sort of _connection_. It sounds stupid and stuff, I know, but I've seen it with so many other nerds or geeks. They're lucky." She scowled.

"If Dash beats one up the others are right there, consoling them or taking them to the nurse. If I -" she made a face of disgust, "hurt one of them, make fun of them, their friends are right there, telling them my words don't mean anything. And they're right. They don't." She looked at Sam again. "I don't have that." she whispered. "I don't have that luxury. All the money in the world can't buy that."

She clutched the dark bed sheets. Her manicured nails had chipped but she didn't seem to care. "You. You have rich parents. I know, because they show up at my parent's balls stuff all the time. When I first heard the name, "Manson," I thought that I was hallucinating."

"But then you, in this purple dress, came up behind your parents, looking as bored as you liked at the stupid reception thing. And you, you were a-a _loser_, but you survived with rich parents." Sam remembered that reception. Her parents forced her to go.

The Latina's perfect pink tongue ran along her teeth. "I never envied someone any more than in that moment."

Sam simply gaped.

"So, I want to know. How do you do it?" Paulina whispered. "How can you be yourself?"

Silence.

"Start by being your own person." Sam said. Paulina nodded, entranced by her nemesis' soft voice. "Don't let your parents or friends bully you into doing anything. Be strong." Sam regarded her without any contempt. "Any friends who just abandon you for nothing aren't worth it. Don't even call them friends. They aren't worthy of that title." Another nod.

"Wear what you want. Say what you like. Don't fear others trying to squash your opinions." Paulina smiled, for the first time that morning. Suddenly, Sam asked, "What's your _real_ favourite color?"

"Huh?"

"You don't really like pink, do you?" Paulina started, then smiled and nodded vigorously. "I actually despise it." Sam smirked.

"That's two of us."

So Paulina Sanchez made her first real friend that day, at one in the morning.

And she was never the same again.


End file.
